


From The Sublime To The Ridiculous

by NahaFlowers



Category: Black Sails
Genre: A little bit anyway, Crack, Fluff, Harry Potter AU, M/M, Sickfic, alfred hamilton is a douchebag but what else is new?, this is honestly a very silly fic, ummm furry mention?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 14:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NahaFlowers/pseuds/NahaFlowers
Summary: Thomas has lost a bet to Silver, Silver won't stop booping Thomas on the nose, and James has just fallen in the lake. Just an ordinary day at Hogwarts, then.





	From The Sublime To The Ridiculous

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on Tumblr from penflicks. Definitely don't take these house headcanons as prescriptive, I'm not 100% certain on them myself - but they seemed to work well for this fic.

“Sorry, Thomas, said John, grinning, not looking sorry at all. “You lost the bet. Slytherin smashed Gryffindor last Quidditch match. Not even 50 points to our 300! Shame,” he said, shaking his head smugly. “Hand it over,” he said, and held out a hand.

“Damn you, John Silver.” Thomas reached into his bag, about to draw out the promised bet. “Ten Galleons, was it?”

“That’s the one,” said John, grinning all over his face.

Thomas sighed and reached into the velvet drawstring bag which held his money. He drew out two golden Galleons, and then found he had no more – just a small pile of silver Sickles and a lot of bronze Knuts.

Thomas licked his lips apprehensively. “I’m short,” he said.

“Well now, that’s just not true, is it? You’re one of the tallest people I know.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “No, I mean, I’m short of the money.”

“Oh,” said John, looking surprised. Then his face brightened. “That’s okay, you can just pay me back next time you get money out of Gringotts.”

“No,” said Thomas, feeling horribly awkward. “You don’t understand. My father’s cut me off.”

John gaped at him. “He’s cut you off?” Thomas nodded, miserably. “Why? Because of James? I thought he knew you were gay?”

“He did, sort of. He was okay with it as long as he could pretend it wasn’t real, and as long as I didn’t actually, you know, act on it. That’s why I dated Miranda in first year,” he explained, referring to the Slytherin girl in the year above, who was still one of Thomas’s closest friends. “But it’s not just the gay thing. He asked what house James was in, and when I told him he was a Hufflepuff – and a muggleborn Hufflepuff at that – he hit the roof.” Thomas puffed out a laugh. “He said it was bad enough me being in Gryffindor, when, you know, our whole family going back _centuries_ has been in Slytherin, but at least Gryffindor was a respectable house.” Thomas rolled his eyes. “But me dating a Hufflepuff, and a boy at that, well, that was the last straw. So I told him that James was a better wizard and a better man than any Slytherin has ever been – no offence,” he said, casting an apologetic glance at John, “and that I didn’t need his fucking approval anyway.”

“And then what happened?” asked John.

Thomas snorted. “He asked if I needed the money and position that comes _with_ that approval, and I said ‘What, the money and position our family got from marrying our cousins and slaughtering innocent muggleborns?’” Thomas breathed heavily, looking angry. John was looking at him with worry. “So he told me to get out.”

“When was this?” John asked.

“Christmas. I’ve been staying at muggle friends’ houses since then, my father performed a bit of magic that meant I couldn’t apparate without his say-so, and he confiscated my wand – sent it back to me only after I went to the Headmaster about it, on the first day of term.” John looked appalled. “I haven’t told James yet, by the way.”

“You haven’t told him?” exclaimed John, shocked.

Thomas shrugged uncomfortably. “I know he would just feel guilty, blame himself. But it’s _not his fault,”_ he said fiercely. “Anyway, I don’t regret it.”

John booped him on the nose, which was his way of showing affection. “He’s a dickhead, your dad. You’re well shot of him.”

“I know,” said Thomas, darkly. “But that’s why I can’t pay your bet, at least not right now. I’m sorry John. I let you down.”

John shook his head, gave him another friendly tap on the nose, which made Thomas smile reflexively. “Don’t be silly,” he said, grinning wickedly, “I’ll just have to think of a cunning forfeit for you to do instead.”

“Oh God,” said Thomas, screwing his eyes up and looking horrified, although truthfully he was glad he had another way to pay John back – the other boy wasn’t exactly rich and he could probably have done with the extra cash. “What’s the forfeit?”

“Hmm…” John looked thoughtful. “I don’t know, I’ll have to think about it.” Then the teasing smile left his face and he cleared his throat, looking serious. “You need to tell James, though.”

“Tell me what?” said James, coming through the portrait hole to the Hufflepuff common room where they had congregated at exactly the wrong moment.

Thomas and John exchanged guilty glances and then John said, “Just that he lost a bet we had on.”

James snorted. “I knew that already,” he said, looking suspiciously between the two of them.

Thomas opened his mouth to speak, and then realised James was shivering. “James,” he exclaimed, taking him in properly, “you’re soaking!” He hurried forward, worriedly.

“There’s no need to fuss,” said James, a claim that would have held much more legitimacy had his teeth not been chattering. Thomas put an arm around him, firmly.

“What happened?” asked John. “You look like you fell in the lake!”

James gave him a look. “I did,” he said shortly.

“Let’s get you upstairs, get you out of these wet clothes,” said Thomas quickly, steering James towards the stairs, ignoring John chortling behind them.

James gave him a suggestive look.

Thomas laughed. “Not like that. You’re not getting so much as a kiss from me until I’m sure you’re not going to get hypothermia.”

James pouted. “Fine,” he said sulkily, and let himself be let up the stairs to his dorm.

When they came back down, Jams was wearing his favourite oversized jumper and dry jeans, and was wrapped in a thick tartan blanket. Thomas made a beeline straight to the fire, where there were already people sitting in the comfy armchairs. James groaned behind him.

“Move please,” said Thomas, politely but firmly. “My boyfriend’s just fallen in the lake and he needs to warm up.”

There was a lot of muttering and grumbling from the assembled Hufflepuffs, as well as a few dirty looks at Thomas, who wasn’t even in their house, asking them to vacate their chairs. Thomas was a prefect, however, and a fair one at that, so they left the area to find new seats without much further ado.

“Thomas,” complained James, as the taller boy pushed him into the chair closest to the fire. “If I get any warmer I’ll be a Blast-Ended Skrewt.” But Thomas simply gazed at him reprovingly until he relented and sank back into the armchair.

Not before grabbing Thomas around the middle and pulling him down with him, however.

“James,” said Thomas, scandalised, although he smiled and turned to kiss James on the cheek.

“If you want me to get warm,” James growled in his ear, “then it’s in both of our interests for you to stay in my arms.”

“Okay,” said Thomas a bit breathlessly, nodding in agreement. “But you know,” he said silkily, “it’s always in _my_ best interests to be in your arms.”

James kissed him properly then, right on the mouth, and cuddle him closer.

Behind them, John cleared his throat. They both looked up at him, smiling, and he moved around to sit in the armchair opposite them.

“I thought of what you have to do to pay your bet,” said John, eyes twinkling.

“Oh god, what?” asked Thomas.

“Cat ears,” he said, smugly.

“What?” said James, before Thomas could get there.

“Cat ears! I’ll transfigure cat ears onto your head, and when anybody asks why you did it, you can tell them you’re a cat furry!”

Thomas burst out laughing, while James looked completely nonplussed. John beamed at them as if this was the most hilarious and brilliant idea in the world.

“Okay,” Thomas agreed, “you can give me cat ears. “As long as you remove them after a few days.”

“Two weeks,” said John.

“A week,” said Thomas, firmly.

“How about ten days; one for each Galleon you owe me.”

Thomas giggled. “Fine,” he said. “But why?”

John shrugged. “Just thought it would be funny.”

“Plus, babe,” said James, who seemed to have recovered from his confusion and accepted John’s idea as one of his usual madcaps schemes, “you do tend to purr a bit when we’re in bed together.”

Thomas looked embarrassed. “Do I? Shit, I didn’t even realise…”

James kissed Thomas soothingly on the head, then pressed their foreheads together, looking teasingly into Thomas’s eyes. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I like it.”

“James is a cat furry!” exclaimed John delightedly as they sank into a long, warm kiss like it was a hot bath.


End file.
